Lessons Amid the Gathering Dusk
by wordbearer
Summary: Another day in the life of young Raven as the foundations of her future fall into place around her. OneShot.


Yo. Here I am, another one shot Ravencentric flashback ficlet offered for your enjoyment. (Wishful thinking? Ha. Maybe.) This is small, but being able to produce anything at all is a boon I hadn't exspected. My muse has been doing over time with a Titans RPG I've been running, so my independent fanfic has been suffering as a result... (Never let anyone tell you creativity is easy.)I really need to finish A Matter of Small Differences. Meh. Anyway, I don't own Teen Titans in any way, shape, or form. That honor belongs to Cartoon Network and I have no intent of challenging them or their well-paid pack of predatory lawyers in a court of law. So enjoy the fic if possible.

Lessons Amid the Gathering Dusk

By Wordbearer

A small, grey-skinned toddler scowled at the monks surrounding her, crackling with ebon power, and crossed her arms in front of her chest. She declared, "No. I'm not metatating and you can't make me!"

The senior monk frowned, "Raven. You agreed to work with us. This is what we're doing now…"

"No. I'm bored. I want my mommy." The half-daemon stamped her foot and glared at everyone from her petulant, azule eyes. She was clad in loose blue robes that rustled in the grip of her energies, her hair rippling like purple wheat in a storm. A tapestry hung behind her, one of the countless textiles portraying the Phoenix King perched on the fallen corpses of His many enemies with fiery pinions unfurled.

The senior monk glanced at his two brethren as he replied, "We are going to do this, and it will be most effective if you do this of your own free will. Now, sit down and do as…"

"No. I want my mommy. I'm hungry." A surge of black energy exploded outward and shattered a vase. Raven's petulant look was streaked with a pulse of shame and the senior monk took his opportunity.

"Raven. If you don't meditate, then that will happen with your mother. You know that makes her feel bad." The other monks quietly gathered their power should their young charge prove rebellious.

She frowned, destroying another vase, and grumbled, "Don't care. I'm hungry, tired, and I want my mommy." A note of uncertainty hovered in her tone.

The monk continued, "You don't mean that. That would make you a bad girl. You don't want to be a bad girl for us. We'd have to tell your mother." The aura of power faded as Raven plopped down sullenly.

She looked up, "Fine. We'll do metatate. Meanie… Telling mommy I was bad just because you're boring…" She pulled her chunky legs into a crude approximation of the lotus position. The head monk smiled briefly at this concession, and also took up the lotus position. The remaining pair of monks warily observed from a safe distance.

He sighed, "It's meditation, but 'metatate' will do for now. Do you remember what to do?" Raven had closed her eyes at this point, aura all but extinguished.

"No. This game is hard." A note of spite lingered in her tone.

The monk sighed, "Very well. I'll go over it again…" He recited the instructions like a litany he'd had to repeat one too many times, "Close your eyes. Focus inward. Look for the little part of your mind that's really quiet. And then…"

Raven interrupted, "Quiet like my room at night or quiet like the big pond in the temple where the people pray?" The young girl peeked open one eye mischievously. She closed it again when the monk failed to react as hoped.

His voice was laced with serenity, "For you, it will be like the reflection pool, full of silent potential. Can you find it?"

"Yeah. I can see it. Its echoey," Raven stated as she settled again.

The monk continued, "Yes, it is. That's your center. Focus on your center. Calm your breathing." Raven frowned as she did so and the monk continued, "Now begin your mantra. You know this, we covered this many times."

"No. I forgot."

The monk's voice rose, "Raven… This is bad behavior. Now tell me the words. You know them."

Raven muttered, "Azarath Zinthos Metrion." She smiled and her aura flared up briefly.

"Close. Try again."

"Zinthos Azarath Metrion."

The monk intoned flatly, "Raven. You're mixing the words up on purpose."

"Fine. Azarath Metrion Zinthos." The smile died.

The monk allowed the ghost of a smile to tweak his lips before continuing, "Very good. Now repeat the mantra over and over. It will bring your thoughts into control. After me: Azarath Metrion Zinthos. Azarath Metrion…"

Raven grimaced and stuck out her lip, "Boring. I'm hungry." The monk raised an eyebrow in reply. She subsided, "Fine. I'll play this stupid game. Azarath Metrion Zinthos. Azarath Metrion Zinthos. Azarath…"

This peaceful scene continued for a minute or two. Raven and the senior monk chanted the ancient Azarathian mantra, a contrast of youthful singsong and self-controlled monotone. The pair of monks observing the lesson hurriedly readied themselves, casting wards of protection and containment, as Raven's aura flared up again. The girl didn't cease her chant as the power waxed outward in pulsing waves, scratching the walls abrasively and fluttering the heavy tapestry.

The senior monk stopped his chant and snapped his eyes open with a shout, alarm crossing his face, "Raven! Stop. That's enough for now." The artificial storm rustled the black robe draped over his lean frame as it surged around him.

"…Metrion Zinthos… What? Why? Are we going to go...," Her eyes opened wide in surprise at the collapsing aura of power cascading around her, "My aura doesn't get this big at home…" As she stared about her, the power withdrew into her flesh, flickering from time to time like black flame about her form.

The monk relaxed, "That is another thing mediation is for, it allows one to focus one's inner strength. In this case, the display was involuntary, but dangerous. Someone could have been seriously hurt by your power."

Raven glared sullenly at the monk, "You told me to do it. I was metatating and then I starting getting warm, and then you yelled at me… Not my fault."

The monk frowned at his charge and shook his head ruefully, "In this case, not entirely. We will both be more careful in the future. If you start to 'get warm' again, stop whatever you're doing. Otherwise…"

Raven cut him off, "What if I'm swimming? Then I'll die…"

The monk answered, "Someone will help you, and by the time you learn how to swim, it will be clear what you need to stop doing."

Raven frowned, "Okay. What if I'm chewing? I might swallow unchewed food if I stop chewing… Mommy doesn't like that."

"You wouldn't be chanting if you were eating," interjected the monk, "Now can we continue with you keeping what we've said in mind?"

The half-daemon said, "Metatate is hard. I don't want to play anymore. I want a 'ice cake and my mommy."

"Raven… A few more minutes and she will be coming. Let's make these productive minutes."

The young girl asked, "Productive is good?" The monk nodded and she continued, "Okay. I'll play metatate some more." She closed her eyes as she took up the mantra again, aura dormant once more, "Azarath Metrion Zinthos. Azarath Metrion…"

Time passed. Raven let the mantra trickle to a halt as she heard the sound of familiar footsteps on stone tiles. She shot to her feet and ran out of the room. The monks reacted more sedately, rising with due dignity as Arella entered the room with the dark mystic in tow. Raven chattered at her mother, "…is really hard, but I have to stop if I start feeling warm and the monks are mean with boring games and I was hungry, but they didn't care…"

Arella squeezed the girl's small grey hand gently, urging her to silence. She glanced at the monks from the shadows of her white hood, "Raven has a lot of things to say about today. Did it go well?"

The senior monk replied, "Well enough, she eventually cooperated and focused well. There was a surprise, but nothing that can't be dealt with. You will need to watch her if she meditates at home as per Azar's instructions. Her power is evidently more… precocious then previously thought."

"I see," came the quiet response, "This will mean more hours of training, won't it?" Arella's eyes filled with resignation at the monk's answer.

"In all likelihood, yes. I would have to consult with my superiors in the Brotherhood first…" An awkward silence bloomed as Arella absorbed the implication and the monks stoically absorbed the young mother's softly accusing glare. One of the younger monks offered softly, "Reality is and to ignore reality is folly that leads only to destruction. If one accepts what is, one can…" He trailed off as Arella pinned him with her gaze, genuinely saddened by what he saw in her eyes.

Raven looked back and forth between the adults towering around her, not really understanding what was going on but she had a vague inkling that this was going to be a Bad Thing. She blurted out, "I'm hungry, Mommy! I want a 'ice cake!"

Arella looked away from the monks and towards the pair of needful azule eyes below her. She lifted Raven with a grunt and whispered to her child, "I don't think that you need any more rice cakes. You're getting heavy."

Raven smiled, staring into Arella's troubled eyes, "Please? 'Ice cakes? I'm hungry." Her mother just looked at her sadly as Raven repeated, "Please? The monks wouldn't let me eat… I'm hungry, Mommy."

The young woman's face lit up at the simple, honest expression of love in the chubby face inches from her own. She brightly responded, "How can I say no to such a good, growing girl? Of course, you can have a rice cake, my good Raven, my lovely blessed Raven." A mote of resentment danced in her dark eyes as she glanced back at the monks, "Raven is a good girl, isn't she? So willing to do hard, boring things for other people…"

Raven turned to look at the senior monk over her shoulder as he murmured, "Of course." Arella started to walk away with the squirming blue-and-grey bundle of her child supported securely in her arms. The monk shook his head and joined his brethren as they began to restore the chamber to a semblance of order. The sound of conversation could be heard bouncing off the stone walls of the temple.

"Mommy?"

"Yes, Raven?"

"Can I have TWO 'ice cakes? Please?"

"I don't think… Don't you make that face at me! It doesn't work anymore."

"Please?"

"Oh, okay. But only two. I don't want you getting sick again…"

"Yay! 'Ice cakes!" Arella laughed at the exclamation as they passed beyond the reach of hearing.

The senior monk sighed at the tragic irony of it all and started gathering up the shards of broken vase illuminated by dying light lancing in through one of the high windows. The brightly colored tapestry faded into shadow as the light leeched away from its surface under the steady pressure of the setting sun.

So you made it down here, surviving my sacrine fluff-fest with a minimum of trauma. I hope... So, what did you think? Good? Bad? None of the above? Leave a review if you see fit and tell me what you think. Thank you very much for your time. Have a nice day.


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